


If You Trust Me

by TwoBoys2Love



Series: Light Wolf [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8257253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBoys2Love/pseuds/TwoBoys2Love
Summary: Sam and Dean are learning how to live with Sam's new state. But it's not clear how "normal" things will be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The second instalment of the Light Wolf series.

"I'm a werewolf, not a housecat,” Sam growled as he paced back and forth across the living area of the old cabin.  
  
The conversation was going better than Dean had expected which was kind of pathetic considering his little brother’s response.  
  
“I’m not saying _train_ like - use a litterbox or something. I’m saying -”  
  
“Can we drop the cat analogy all together?” Sam folded his arms tightly across his chest and turned his gaze towards the land that was speeding past his window.  
  
Dean sighed and leaned back against the wall. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at his brother in surprise. “Dude, you _know_ I don't need to be reminded of what has happened.”  
  
The night Sam had been bitten was permanently etched in Dean’s mind. Of course, it fucking was. He’d known something about his brother was off that night but he’d pushed for them to hunt down the werewolf, anyway. It should have been routine.  
  
But it wasn’t.  
  
And Dean had known before he researched that there would be no cure to be found. They’d gone through all the lore on more than one occasion. Every single clue they followed was a dead end. There was no cure for what Sam was and he definitely wasn’t a house cat.  
  
“You didn’t hurt me, Sam.”  
  
“But, I could have,” Sam yelled. “And then I would have had to have dealt with _that_ for the rest of my life.”  
  
It was complicated. Dean had taken Sam out of the cabin and out into the bush. He knew it was a slight risk, but he also trusted his brother. When he looked into the silver wolf's eyes he saw Sam’s eyes. _And_ , he hadn’t been hurt.  
  
“Did you enjoy it?” Dean asked his brother.  
  
“What?” Sam looked confused for a few moments.  
  
“ _Did_ you enjoy being out there with me? In the bush?” Dean blinked slowly and fixed Sam with a pointed stare.  
  
For a while, Sam just stared at his brother with his mouth hanging open. When his jaw finally snapped shut, he shook his head and then threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay, yeah. I think. But, that doesn’t change anything.”  
  
“Sam, stop. Nothing happened and we’re back here and you’re just fine.” Dean was used to the way Sam would get all twisted up inside with guilt over everything. Sam could blame himself for _anything_ , even things that hadn’t happened yet.  
  
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Sam said softly.  
  
“Enough,” Dean said as he pushed off the wall. He paced over to his brother and grabbed his shoulders. “Stop this.”  
  
“Dean-”  
  
“- No. That’s enough. We have enough problems without you takin’ on extra shit.” Dean slid his hands up over his brother’s shoulders until he was cupping both sides of Sam’s neck. “I’m fine.”  
  
They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time and then Dean could feel some of the tension leaving his brother’s body.  
  
“I _can’t_ be the one that - that does something that hurts you,” Sam murmured. His crazy big brow was all furrowed and his eyes were scrunched up like he was in pain.  
  
Sam probably _was_ in pain.  
  
“It went okay. I won’t do it again without talkin’ to you about it first, okay?”  
  
There was a stubborn set to Sam’s shoulders, and he averted his gaze.  
  
“Okay?” Dean asked a little more firmly.  
  
“Okay,” Sam said reluctantly. He shrugged out of his brother’s grasp and headed over to the window. He looked past the curtain and then reached out to pick up his jacket. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I’ll be back soon.”  
  
A protest formed on Dean’s lips but he bit it back and nodded. There was a hell of a lot going on in Sam’s head and he probably needed time to work some of it out. “I’m gonna cook a pizza later, don’t be late for dinner.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes and headed out the door.  
  
“Some things never change,” Dean muttered as the door closed.  
  
He knew Sam would be okay. They’d made it over a few speed bumps since the night Sam had been bitten.  
  
The first change had been one of the craziest nights of Dean’s life. He would _never_ forget it. Then there had been the night, months later, that Dean had first gone into the panic room with the wolf. That had been a game changer.  
  
It had been the sixth full moon and the third time that Sam had changed that month. It happened the day before, the day of and the day after. Three days of hell. It was always hard to watch and Dean would close his eyes or look away when he couldn’t stand it. The pain on Sam’s face was clear and Dean was always a little relieved when the cries stopped.  
  
When Dean had found the courage to look into the panic room again that night, the wolf had been lying there staring at the door. Sam’s eyes were there, clear as day, Dean would recognize those eyes anywhere.  
  
The decision to go into the panic room just kind of happened in Dean’s head. There was no thought behind it, it was pure instinct. He looked into those hazel eyes and saw _only_ his brother.  
  
The door clanked loudly when Dean unlocked it and a metallic screech filled the hallway as Dean pulled it open.  
  
He stood in the open doorway for a long time, eyes locked with the slightly slanted ones of the wolf.  
  
After a while, the wolf stood and padded over to the bunk in the middle of the room. It hopped up onto the worn blankets and lay down. After an intense stare, the wolf rested its head on its paws.  
  
Dean swallowed in spite of the fact that his mouth had gone dry. Oh, he trusted Sam, and he was about 99% sure that Sam wouldn’t hurt him. But, it was all about Sam, it always had been.  
  
It was only about three steps to the bunk but Dean covered them at a snail’s pace. One step and a pause, another step and a longer pause. After the third step, the wolf raised its head and blinked up at Dean.  
  
“It’s okay, Sammy.” Dean held his hands up and shifted to the side. The familiar eyes followed his movements closely.  
  
“It’s all good, right?” Dean lowered himself down onto the bunk and slid his hand closer to Sam. “Sam? It’s me, Dean. You know that, right?”  
  
The smooth, gray fur on the wolf’s head was shiny and healthy looking. “Figures.”  
  
The Wolf tilted its head slightly and narrowed its gaze.  
  
“It’s okay,” Dean murmured. He let his fingers move forward on the rough wool of the blanket until he could feel the soft fur on the wolf’s front paw.  
  
Everything was quiet for a few moments and then a low growl built deep in the wolf’s throat.  
  
“Sam,” Dean said a little more firmly. “You know me. Better than anyone. You always have. Look at me.”  
  
The silvery gray head lifted slightly and the dark hazel eyes focused on Dean’s. The growl grew quieter then stopped.  
  
“See? I told you,” Dean said softly. It was a chance, but Dean lifted his hand slowly and reached down to smooth his fingertips over the silky fur on the wolf’s ear.  
  
~~~~~  
  
When Dean heard the crunch of footsteps outside the cabin, he laid back on the couch and tried to look as though he _hadn’t_ been pacing for half an hour while he waited for Sam to return. At the last second before Sam stepped inside, Dean snatched his beer up off the coffee table. He crossed his legs at the ankle and took a sip of beer.  
  
“Hey,” Sam said as he came inside. He took a deep breath and shifted his shoulders in the quirky way he did to adjust his jacket. After a few moments, he shoved his hands into his pockets.  
  
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You stayin’?”  
  
Sam nodded and pulled his hands out of his pockets again so he could unzip his jacket.  
  
“There’s pizza on the table, beer in the fridge. I’m here on the couch.” Dean grinned and patted the couch beside his hip.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged out of his jacket.  
  
Dean focused his gaze back on the TV and realized he had no idea what was on. He squinted and tried to figure out what was happening on the screen.  
  
Sam settled on the long rickety chair that was at the small table.  
  
When Dean heard the pizza box slide across the table, he knew Sam would eat. When his little brother got depressed, sometimes he wouldn't eat at all. At least pizza had meat on it.  
  
“Have a good walk?” Dean took a sip of his beer then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
There was a slight pause then Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah. Just needed some air.”  
  
“Feel better now?”  
  
There was another silence then the sound of the pizza box sliding across the table again, probably, away from Sam. “I don’t feel better but… that’s okay.”  
  
It wasn’t okay but Dean already knew there wasn’t very much he could do about it. Sam had always had to work through things in his own time. And Sam was human, in spite of his wolfy tendencies. There was a lot of shit that Sam would never get over.  
  
“I found a hunt,” Dean offered. He tried to look as casual as he could. The less he seemed to care about the hunt the more likely Sam might be to go along with it.  
  
“No.”  
  
Usually, it took Sam about three sentences before he got around to saying, no. “You want to hear what the hunt _is_ before you piss all over my parade?”  
  
“No.” Sam sighed.  
  
“It’s a simple deal. A vamp, probably. Well, I’m 99% sure. Looks like an accident. I guess vamps have those too.” Dean smiled and raised his eyebrows knowingly.  
  
“Someone else can do it,” Sam said flatly. He folded his arms across his chest and slumped back in the chair.  
  
Shaking his head, Dean chuckled. It could be 12-year-old Sammy sitting in the chair. If Sam had any doubts, he was still the same man, Dean sure as hell didn’t.  
  
“Sam, you know there’s no one else in the area. Besides, it’s just over the state line so it’s only about an hour drive.” It was time for them to get back to work. Dean knew his brother would feel better if they were busy, it was all part of being a hunter.  
  
“It’s still the full moon for two more nights.” There was a sharpness to Sam’s voice that was out of character. But, he was under a hell of a lot of pressure.  
  
“You won’t hurt me. You _know_ you won’t. You followed me everywhere last night. And there was never a moment when you weren’t in control.” When Dean looked over at Sam, he was surprised how crestfallen Sam looked. “What?”  
  
“Not that straightforward, Dean. There’s a lot you don’t know.”  
  
“Then maybe you should tell me,” Dean said quickly. Frustration was eating away at his patience. He sat up and swung his legs down over the side of the couch. “Speak.”  
  
“I’m not a dog.”  
  
“What?”  
  
After a frown, Sam shook his head. “Never mind.”  
  
“What’s so not straightforward about last night?” As far as Dean could tell their run through the bush had gone really well. At first, Sam had seemed distracted by everything but Dean had written that off to a wolf’s heightened sense. Of course, it would be fucking distracting.  
  
It looked as Sam was going to just button up and stay mute but then his shoulders dropped slightly. He pushed his hand into his hair and held on for a few seconds before letting go. “There was this _pull_ , Dean. I knew you were there at first. But, it was hard, Dean. I could feel I wanted to hunt-”  
  
“- We _do_ hunt,” Dean interjected.  
  
“Not that kind of hunt. I wanted to kill something, Dean. Hunt life… like a predator.” Sam looked away and stared out the window.  
  
It was a little worse than Dean had hoped. It seemed natural that Sam would have the instinct to hunt and chase. In his wolf form, he _was_ an apex predator. That huge silver wolf was bigger than any wolf that Dean had ever seen. Hell, he was beautiful. And, yeah, he was a wild animal.  
  
Dean sighed and reached out to take his brother’s hand. He pressed Sam’s hand between both of his and looked down at them. His hands were wider than Sam’s but Sam’s fingers were longer. Dean realized he couldn't remember what their father’s hands looked like.  
  
Sam sat up a little and leaned closer to his brother.  
  
“Sam, when I looked into your eyes last night, all I could see was you. There was no wild creature there, no threat or death. It was just you, Sam. I’d know you anywhere.” When Dean looked up, he smiled when he found Sam looking at him.  
  
“I didn’t always feel like I could control it,” Sam said in a whisper.  
  
“But, you _did_ control it, Sam. Every moment. I was never afraid of you - not for the briefest fucking moment.” It was the truth. Dean had never been afraid of his brother, he’d only ever been terrified of _losing_ him.  
  
Sam shook his head slightly then looked down at their hands.  
  
“Let’s just try this one hunt. It will be easy and it’s just one vampire. Think about how you could use those wolfy powers, Sam. You’re like a furry superhero.”  
  
Sam looked up and flinched back slightly.  
  
Dean grinned. “I had you right up until the furry superhero thing, yeah?”  
  
Finally, Sam cracked a smile. “That was pretty stupid.”  
  
As Dean nodded, he looked down at their hands again. It still felt a little _new_ to touch Sam so intimately. Weird, maybe, but it felt good. It felt like it was the place they were meant to have arrived at.  
  
“I need time,” Sam said softly.  
  
Relief pushed the breath out of Dean’s lungs. When he looked up, he lost himself in Sam’s gaze. There was something fucking amazing about Sam’s eyes. Dean would be happy to lose himself for days in those eyes.  
  
The chair creaked as Sam leaned forward and pressed his lips to his brothers.  
  
Dean’s heart leaped forward, beating faster and stronger. Only Sam could do that to him. No one else had ever made him feel like he was standing on the edge of a fucking cliff about to leap. It was all adrenaline and want and some kind of crazy _need_.  
  
Sam parted his lips and leaned further forward. He pulled his hand free so he could press it to Dean’s chest and grab a handful of his t-shirt.  
  
Dean was yanked forward. Before he could stop it, he slid off the couch onto his knees.  
  
A look of concern furrowed Sam’s brow but before he could move, Dean settled his hands on his brother’s thighs. He’d never been on his knees in front of his little brother before.  
  
A strange thrill of _desire_ tripped down Dean’s spine. He shifted closer and moved his hands up to unbutton his brother’s jeans.  
  
“Dean,” Sam said quietly.  
  
“Shut up,” Dean answered. Sometimes he didn’t want to hear Sam’s protests or buy into his guilt.  
  
Sam squared his shoulders, but he pressed his lips together and stayed silent.  
  
As Dean lowered the zipper on his brother’s jeans, he took a deep breath. “Just stop thinking for a while, Sam.”  
  
A deep breath inflated Sam’s broad chest. His eyes - those crazy eyes still looked undecided. It was raw still - the newness of their touching, wanting to be physical with each other. Dean knew the look that was burned into Sam’s eyes.  
  
Ever since things had changed between them, there had been a hesitancy in Sam. It was almost like he thought everything would be ripped out from under him if he felt certain of it.  
  
It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling for Dean. He knew there was a lot more that was completely fucking unreliable in their lives. But, Dean had blind faith when it came to Sam. He would stay with Sam no matter what. With all the shit they’d been through, they were owed something solid, something they could count on. Dean would do whatever he could to make sure Sam had that even if it was just for a little while.  
  
Dean’s fingers pushed under the hem of Sam’s t-shirt and slid over the tight flesh of Sam’s abs. His muscles were firm and tight, full of tension and life. Dean rubbed the taut flesh and looked up at his brother.  
  
The intensity of Sam’s gaze made it a little harder for Dean to get his next breath in. “Just let go, Sam.”  
  
Finally, Sam reached up and threaded his fingers together behind his head. His lashes fluttered closed and his hips shifted forwards on the chair.  
  
Dean shuffled forward on his knees and leaned up and into Sam’s body. The earthy scent of Sam’s body surrounded Dean as he dragged his lips down the dusting of hair below Sam’s belly button.  
  
Heat radiated from Sam’s body. He always ran hot, and it seemed even worse since his _change_.  
  
Dean took a deep breath of the scent of Sam and pulled his brother’s jeans even further apart. The swell of Sam’s hard-on pushed against the soft cotton of his boxers and Dean ran his lips along the material.  
  
The response from Sam was immediate. He shifted his ass restlessly on the chair and his legs fell open. His arms finally fell to his sides and his hands clenched into tight fists.  
  
Dean curled his fingers over the waistband of Sam’s boxers and pulled it forwards until Sam’s swollen cock was free. Already hard and Dean had hardly touched him.  
  
For a while, Dean trailed his fingers up and down the rigid skin of Sam’s cock. The heat of that length of swollen flesh was fiery, and the skin was flushed red.  
  
When Dean glanced up he could see the sweat on Sam’s neck and the dark half moons of lashes fanned out on his cheeks. There had always been something special about Sam. He was gorgeous in an unusual way. His slightly slanted eyes were unusual and exotic and his high cheek bones set them off perfectly.  
  
Sam’s next big exhale caught in his chest and he blinked a few times before he looked down at his brother.  
  
There was a ball of knotted up emotion in Dean’s throat and he had to avert his gaze. Sometimes, seeing those eyes was too real.  
  
Dean wetted his lips and leaned in to press them to the head of Sam’s cock. The swollen head was already leaking pre-come and Dean lapped at the hot slickness.  
  
Sam’s entire body jerked and one of his hands thumped down onto the table so hard an empty beer bottle toppled over and rolled off. It made a dull thump when it hit the old carpet.  
  
Dean didn’t give his brother a chance to recover. He parted his lips wider and slid them over the slick head of Sam’s cock. He sucked the hot flesh into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the slit.  
  
Sam shifted again then a hand smacked down on Dean’s shoulder and long fingers dug into his muscle. It would bruise but it felt all kinds of right.  
  
Sucking his brother’s cock even deeper, Dean let his tongue swirl around all the hard flesh. All that skin was salty and soft and smooth and Dean lapped at it to get more of the _taste_ of his brother.  
  
Sam let out a gasp, then a low moan, and he shifted his legs even further apart. “I. My-”  
  
Fighting a smile at the way Sam was struggling, Dean let his teeth drag over the ridged skin in his mouth.  
  
There was another jerk in Sam’s legs and his hand slid up the side of Dean’s neck and into his short hair. He grabbed hold and held on. His hand was shaking, Dean could feel the tension in the hold.  
  
Hollowing his cheeks, Dean sucked hard on his brother’s swollen cock. He relaxed his throat and swallowed around half of his huge member. There was no way he could take all of his brother’s length, it wasn’t like he’d ever even _given_ a blow job before. But, he was more than willing to keep going.  
  
It felt… amazing. That taste of Sam was heady and the sweat-musk of Sam’s body was everywhere. Dean could feel the tension in Sam’s abs and slid his palm around to press against the small of his brother’s back.  
  
The strength in Sam’s hand wasn't a surprise to Dean. As he pushed his mouth further down Sam’s cock, Dean could feel his brother’s grip tighten on his shoulder. It was painful, but nothing like the pain Dean felt a hundred times a damn week. Old wounds being what they are, he was never without pain.  
  
Dean groaned around his brother’s hard flesh. A little frustrated, he reached up and tugged on Sam’s jeans to pull them further down. Finally, he was able to get one of his hands over Sam’s firm ass. How was Sam built the way he was? Fuck.  
  
Sam’s hips jolted forwards as Dean’s tongue began a journey down the length of hot flesh. He could feel a distended vein, ridges of skin, the way Sam’s cock would twitch with each sweep of his brother’s tongue.  
  
A strange sense of power settled over Dean. He was on his fucking knees with his brother’s giant cock in his mouth and he felt powerful. Why? Because he could _do_ this to Sam. _He_ could make Sam moan and jump around like a frustrated teenager.  
  
Dean’s own cock was hard where it was trapped in his jeans. His balls were aching so badly it felt like they were ready to burst.  
  
He sucked hard for a few moments then curled the fingers of his free hand on the bottom half of Sam’s length. Dean might not know much about _giving_ a blow job but, he sure as hell knew what he liked the feel of. He squeezed his fist tighter around his brother’s flesh and let his teeth trail along as he pulled back.  
  
After a quick breath, Dean pushed down again. The bitter taste of precome was sticky against the back of Dean’s throat. He willed away the feeling that he wanted to gag and dug his nails into Sam’s ass. He urged his brother’s hips forward, encouraging Sam to give him some thrusts.  
  
It was tough. Dean could feel that Sam was holding back. There was always something with Sam, something that made him hold on to what he was feeling.  
  
A moan built in Dean’s throat and he sucked at the head of Sam’s cock as he let his hand work the base of it with a little more speed.  
  
Sam’s body twisted slightly on the chair and he tried to stifle a moan. His hips twitched forward and his fist banged down onto the table top again. “De...an.”  
  
For the briefest moment, Sam’s fingers brushed against Dean’s cheek then settled back on his shoulder.  
  
Dean worked the flesh in his mouth the best way he knew how. He sucked and nipped, licked and fisted his brother’s cock until he could hear Sam panting roughly.  
  
When Sam’s fingers pushed on Dean’s forehead, he growled and tightened the circle of his lips. At that point, he didn’t care what Sam wanted, Dean wanted to taste what his brother had to give him.  
  
Sam’s arm flung out to the side across the table and the laptop slammed into the wall. He grunted, sucked in a deep breath and then his back arched.  
  
Come hit the back of Dean’s throat and he choked for a couple of seconds then got his shit together. He swallowed the slick warmth that pulsed into his mouth and moaned around his brother’s slick skin.  
  
He’d never felt anything like it. _Fuck_ , he’d never _seen_ anything like Sam. When Dean glanced up he could see his _little_ brother sprawled on the chair. His jeans hung loosely around his hips, his shirt was rucked up and the stubbled skin on his neck and cheeks was flushed. Where the sweat had gathered on Sam’s brow, his hair was dark and plastered to his forehead in wispy strands.  
  
Dean swallowed once more and finally sat back on his heels. His lips slid off Sam’s softening cock and he wiped his mouth with his fist. His knees were killing him and his cock was aching but he just pushed up from the carpet and slid back onto the edge of the couch. It took him a couple of moments to catch his breath. He needed to start working out or something.  
  
Sam’s head lolled to the side, and he finally looked a little more relaxed.  
  
A smug smile crept onto Dean’s face and he leaned over to pick up his beer from the coffee. He took a big swig and swirled the beer around in his mouth before swallowing. Beer and Sam. He’d tasted his own come before but never someone else’s. He could feel it lingering in his throat.  
  
When Sam finally looked up, his gaze was a little lazy. The red blush on his cheeks was bright and there were teeth marks embedded into his bottom lip. He rolled his shoulders and then leaned forward to tuck himself back into his underwear.  
  
“Not so bad,” Dean said in between swigs of beer.  
  
“You askin’ me or tellin’ me?” Sam’s voice was all thick and loose.  
  
“Oh, I _know_ you enjoyed that,” Dean said firmly. Sam looked _hot_. “Look at you.”  
  
Sam huffed and straightened his jeans, then pulled his t-shirt down. He pushed the damp hair back off his forehead and then rubbed his hands on his thighs. His gaze dropped to Dean’s crotch, and he lifted his chin slightly. “You need me to-”  
  
“Nah.” Dean shook his head. He’d jerk off in the shower. He didn’t want it to be about him; the whole thing had been about Sam. And he might have been called selfish after sex a few times in the past, but Sam was different. For Sam? Anything. Dean had ripped the wall down so he sure as hell wasn’t going to build that fucker back up again.  
  
“You sure?” Sam leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. He looked up at Dean smiled slightly. “I don’t mind.”  
  
“I’m good.” Dean wasn’t good. He was sure he would be dealing with blue balls if he didn’t get to the bathroom and get off. Having Sam’s lips on his cock was definitely on Dean’s bucket list, but it could wait. The one thing they seemed to have was time. Waiting would suck but, it would be worth it.  
  
After setting his beer down, Dean stretched his arms high above his head then groaned. “I’m gonna go shower.”  
  
He stood and found his wrist caught by one of his brother’s big mitts. “What?”  
  
Sam kept his gaze down but his thumb rubbed over Dean’s pulse point. “Dean, you know. I.”  
  
Warm breath tickled the hairs on Dean’s arm. “It’s good, Sam. We’re good. Yeah?”  
  
Still for almost _too_ long, Sam finally nodded. He pressed his lips to Dean’s forearm then let go.  
  
The kiss was soft and more gentle than Dean expected. He let his fingers comb through his brother’s damp hair then tousled it.  
  
“Go shower,” Sam said with a crooked smile.  
  
“I have no idea what you think I’m gonna do in there,” Dean deadpanned. He walked a few steps backward then adjusted the front of his jeans.  
  
Sam chuckled and leaned back in the creaky chair with a sigh.  
  
Feeling pleased with the smile on Sam’s face, Dean headed for the bathroom.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
The light streaming in the diner windows meant that Dean was up entirely too early. When the waitress stopped at their table, Dean held out his mug for a refill.  
  
They had both ordered the special when they’d arrived. Dean was a little surprised. Sam usually stuck to toast and jam or something super gross like oatmeal. If it wasn't fried, it wasn’t breakfast as far as Dean was concerned.  
  
“You almost awake,” Sam asked as he stirred sugar into his milky coffee.  
  
“Almost,” Dean muttered. “I still don’t know why we had to get up so early.” Sam had been entirely too awake when Dean had first cracked his eyes open.  
  
“I was reading up on that hunt you wanted to do.” Sam turned his coffee cup around slowly.  
  
“Yeah? You bored? Up too early?” Dean grimaced as he took a swig of coffee. It was way too hot and burned the roof of his mouth. But, the shit was getting his heart started.  
  
Sam shook his head slowly. “Just thought I should look into it.”  
  
“ _O_ kay. And?” Dean drank more of the scalding coffee then wrapped his hands around the warm mug.  
  
“Well, I was thinking about it. And I think maybe we could try it.”  
  
“Great. We’ll head-”  
  
“-Wait. It’s gotta be my way.” Sam’s hazel eyes were filled with intensity again. He had the gaze of an _old soul_.  
  
Dean pushed his coffee away slightly so he wouldn’t be tempted to drink more until it was a little cooler. “What’s _your_ way?”  
  
Tilting his head to the side slightly, Sam looked down at his mug. “You come in the room with me first. Tonight. If it goes okay, then we can head to the nest tomorrow night. All I’m gonna do is corner it. _You_ have to deal with it.”  
  
Dean rubbed at his eyes with balled up fists then sighed. “Do I have any say in this?”  
  
“Not if you want me to hunt with you,” Sam said flatly.  
  
“Well, that narrows down the list of possible answers,” Dean said.  
  
The waitress arrived at the table with two plates of breakfast and set them down.  
  
“Thanks,” Sam said. He flashed a warm smile at the waitress and she finally cracked a smile herself. Sam had that effect on people.  
  
“Okay.” Dean folded a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewed as he looked across the table at Sam.  
  
“You’ll come in with me tonight?” Sam pushed some scrambled eggs around on his plate.  
  
“Sure. It was fine last time.”  
  
“Dean?”  
  
“Mmmhm?”  
  
“I want you to be in there with me while it… happens.” Sam shrugged.  
  
The last thing that Dean wanted was to watch his brother go through a painful, hellish, change. He had seen enough through the tiny windows in the panic room door. Seeing his brother in pain made Dean feel sick to his stomach.  
  
But he would. If that was what Sam wanted; that was what Sam would get. “No problem,” Dean said.  
  
When Dean took a bite of toast, the flavor wasn’t what he expected. Maybe, he wasn’t as hungry as he’d thought. Maybe, the idea of watching his brother’s body come apart at the seams just made him feel a little sick.  
  
“Are you sure, Dean?” Sam’s hands were clenched together and his shoulders were set in that tense way he had.  
  
Dean wasn’t all that good at hiding the way he felt. Honesty may be the best policy but Dean wasn’t sure exactly what Sam wanted to hear. When Sam changed, It looked like his body was being turned inside out. Cracks appeared in his skin, blood seeped out and then the tearing began.  
  
Just thinking about the little he’d seen, Dean felt the bile rise in his throat. No, he didn’t want to watch his brother's flesh be torn apart. Yes, he would watch Sam go through Hell. He would sit there and keep his eyes locked with his brother’s as long as he could.  
  
Dean took a deep breath. “Look. Do I want to see you go through this? No. But, I’ve told you a hundred god damned times that you and I are in this together. I will not hang you out to dry.”  
  
When Sam looked up there were tears welling in his eyes. He looked away quickly and cleared his throat.  
  
Breakfast wasn't going quite the way it normally did. Besides the fact that Dean wasn’t hungry at all, Sam looked more miserable than ever.  
  
For the first time, Dean wondered if things were getting to be too much for Sam. Dean had his own crosses to bear, but Sam was living with something he had absolutely no power over.  
  
“Eat,” Dean said gruffly. “You always lose weight…” He didn’t bother adding, _over the full moon_.  
  
Sam sniffed, nodded and jabbed his fork into the pile of scrambled egg that covered half his plate.  
  
Dean set his fork down gently and pulled his coffee mug closer again. There was still a little steam coming off it but he drank some anyway. The burn of it got rid of the acidic taste in the back of his throat.  
  
They spent the rest of their time at the diner in near silence. What the hell were you supposed to talk about when one of you would be turning into a fucking werewolf? It didn’t feel right for Dean to tease Sam like he usually did and they’d never really been the kind of brothers who needed small talk. So, they sat there quietly.  
  
Neither of them ate very much. They just sat there. They may have had different reasons for being quiet but, Dean knew their thoughts were on the same possibilities.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
“It’s not on a schedule, Dean.” Sam sounded frustrated. It was already about nine and, so far, Sam hadn’t felt like he was going to change.  
  
“I know,” Dean grumbled. He shifted restlessly on the beat up old couch and stretched his legs out. The cabin wasn’t all that warm and Dean’s joints were aching. He was getting old. He was getting old and weary.  
  
“I feel sick,” Sam said in a gruff voice. He was sitting at the table, head held in his hands.  
  
Adrenaline burst into Dean’s veins, and he shifted closer to the edge of the couch. “Sick like you’re gonna throw up or sick like -”  
  
Sam shot up to his feet so quickly the chair toppled over backward. “Let’s go downstairs.”  
  
Nodding, Dean stood and rubbed his palms on his jeans. He definitely wasn’t ready.  
  
“You ready?” Sam’s voice was unsteady and his face was drawn and pale like he had the mother of all hangovers.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean lied. “C’mon.”  
  
If everything went according to plan, they would only be locked in the panic room for a few hours. Then they could head out into the woods for a while. Dean would do as he’d promised and stay by his brother’s side the entire night.  
  
The old wooden stairs creaked as the brothers headed down them. The generator out back was fueled up and running well so the motion triggered light came on when Dean reached the bottom step. _God bless, Bobby._  
  
The massive, iron door groaned menacingly as Dean pulled it open. He stood back and let Sam head in first. It was Sam’s show from that point on.  
  
The air inside the panic room was musty. It tasted a little metallic when Dean breathed in. It didn’t matter how they’d tried to clean the room out, it never changed. Fortunately, Dean rarely had to be _in_ the room.  
  
As steadily as he could, Dean pulled the door closed the tugged the key out from under his shirt. He’d tied it around his neck so he would always have fast access to it if something went sideways on them.  
  
At first, his hand was shaking so badly that the key missed the keyhole. He took a deep breath and then got it in on the second try. When the lock clicked into place Dean pressed his palm to the cold iron for a few moments. He closed his eyes and wondered if it was worth praying to anything or anyone for help.  
  
Probably not.  
  
The cot squeaked and when Dean turned around Sam was sitting on the end of it. His leg was bouncing up and down and his eyes were darting around the small room. He looked like a tweaker in a back alley.  
  
“You okay?” Dean headed over and sat down beside his brother. It was a stupid fucking question, and he knew it.  
  
Sam nodded, and a smile appeared on his face for about one second before it disappeared again. There was already sweat beading at his temples and his eyes were red-rimmed and a little too big. He looked like he’d been awake for days.  
  
Shoulder to shoulder they sat on that stupid old cot and Dean could feel the tension ratcheting up in his chest until it felt like his ribs would snap. He’d spent the entire day trying not to look stressed, basically trying to look the exactly opposite of what he was feeling. He probably hadn’t pulled it off, but it had made him feel better to try.  
  
“Thanks,” Sam said through gritted teeth. They both knew what the thanks were for; Sam wasn’t alone.  
  
Sam’s hands had slid across his stomach and he leaned forward slightly.  
  
It was starting.  
  
Dean reached over and tucked his hand under the hem of Sam’s work shirt so he could press his palm to the small of his back. Sam’s skin was cool and clammy but he didn’t shy away from the touch.  
  
It wasn’t easy to watch Sam as he curled over the pain he was, undoubtedly, feeling in his stomach. Dean was reminded of when they were younger and Sam would eat too much candy. At 9 years old, Sam would lie on his bed in the fetal position and sweat. Sometimes, Dean would just sit and talk to him.  
  
“Hey, Sammy. You remember when we went to that motel with the pool outside? The one that had no fence?” Dean smiled warmly and reached up with his free hand to tuck Sam’s hair behind his ear so he could see his brother’s eyes.  
  
“Mhhm,” Sam murmured. He huffed out a small laugh. “You fell in.”  
  
The grin on Dean’s face was genuine. “You laughed until you cried, ya asshole. Didn’t even help me get out.”  
  
Sam’s smile had faded slight, but he was looking into his brother’s eyes.  
  
“I ruined my favorite belt and a perfectly good pair of boots.” Dean had been _so_ pissed off, dripping on the side of the pool while his brother had laughed until he could hardly breathe. _Those_ were the kinds of memories that Dean thought Sam needed in his head. He had nothing else to give his little brother that might take away some of the pain.  
  
A groan choked Sam, and he tore his eyes away from Dean’s to look down at the floor.  
  
“I’m here, Sam. I’m not going anywhere.” The heat was building in Sam’s back. Dean could feel his brother’s muscles rippling under his flesh. It wasn’t natural; his body shouldn’t be moving the way it was.  
  
The room was suddenly filled with the raspy sound of Sam’s gasps for air. He was trying to be tough; Dean could see it in the set of his brother’s jaw and the way his teeth were clenched together. Stupid.  
  
“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Sam. Doesn’t matter if you yell or whatever. You do what you gotta do, buddy.” Dean felt stupid trying to speak to Sam like he was about to give birth or something else mundane.  
  
It looked like Sam nodded and then his entire body jerked forward as he doubled over. At first, Dean thought his brother had thrown up, but he had stopped breathing as he trembled there, almost rigid at the same time.  
  
“Sam?”  
  
The sound of Sam finally sucking in a breath was one of the best things Dean had ever heard. He was just about to blow out a relieved sigh when Sam screamed.  
  
It wasn’t _really_ a scream. It was a half-scream, half-yell, but it was the most pain-filled and gut-wrenching sound Dean had ever heard. It was like Sam was being torn apart, limb from limb.  
  
Dean couldn’t help sitting back slightly but he never _once_ let his hand stray from his brother’s back. He let his hand rub gently over the strained muscles in Sam’s back. “It’s okay, Sammy.”  
  
_It absolutely was not okay._ And if Sam didn’t punch Dean later when he remembered him saying that? Then Dean would do it himself. _Jesus_  
  
The knobs of Sam’s spine protruded up under Dean’s hand. He could feel the way the flesh was straining over the bone and finally let his hand fall away. It took all of his willpower to stay _right_ there beside his little brother. What Dean wanted to do was bolt from the room, cover his ears, close his eyes or tell Sam that was enough and they should just stop the change right there.  
  
But none of that was even a possibility.  
  
Sam moaned quietly then gagged, then his hand shot out and grabbed Dean’s arm so hard that he thought he could feel the bones grinding together.  
  
Everything about Sam’s body looked wrong. His shoulders were different, his arms seemed almost too long, and the little Dean could still see of his brother’s face was unrecognizable.  
  
Blood appeared in blooms on the back of Sam’s t-shirt and as Dean watched, they grew. It seemed like it was a little worse each time Sam changed. It was more violent than the time before... and faster. The fact that it was faster might be a damned blessing.  
  
There was a cracking sound from Sam’s shoulders and he fell off the edge of the cot and landed on all fours. The hair on the back of Sam’s head was lightening, silver streaks appeared through the normal chestnut color. All the veins in the side of his neck were bulging, his blood pressure must be through the roof.  
  
Dean glanced down at his arm and there was a red mark where Sam had grabbed him. He rubbed at it briefly, then sank down to his knees beside his brother. He didn’t want to touch Sam, it looked like he was in enough pain. “Sam, I’m still here.”  
  
It was all Dean could think to say. It was, what he’d promised his brother. _Fuck_ , he wasn’t even sure how much of Sam was still there during the change.  
  
Sam shook his head and his entire body contorted again. That was when everything got completely fucked up. It was like being on some bad acid trip. The shape of Sam’s body was fluid, the outline under the clothes kept changing before Dean’s eye. It was just like watching mercury or some fucking thing.  
  
Fear gripped Dean’s heart tightly as he lost track of Sam in the mess of clothes and undulating flesh. All the shit that Dean had seen and what was happening in front of him was the most horrific thing he’d ever seen. He was losing his brother.  
  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments and clasped his hands together so he wouldn’t reach out for his brother. “It’s almost over, Sammy.”  
  
When he could finally stand to open his eyes, everything had changed. It was the silver wolf on the cold cement floor in front of him and Sam’s clothes lay pooled around it. The body was still quivering, the paws twitching.  
  
Reaching out a trembling hand, Dean let his fingers trail over the smooth fur on the back of the wolf’s broad skull. “Sam? You’re okay now. You hear me?”  
  
The silver wolf lifted its head slightly and whined then glanced up at Dean.  
  
“You’re good, Sam,” Dean whispered. He shifted a little closer and stroked the back of the wolf’s neck. The fur was thicker and courser down the midline of the wolf’s back. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re both good.”  
  
The wolf jerked up and its claws slid on the concrete floor as it tried to get to its feet. The hackles on the back of the wolf’s neck rose, and a growl built in its broad chest.  
  
Dean swallowed his fear and kept his hand on the wolf's back. He could feel the growl vibrating through its firm body but the threat didn’t increase.  
  
“Sam, I’ll give you some time and then we’ll go out for a while. Yeah?” Dean’s heart was racing and he could feel sweat beading on his forehead. He was on alert, every instinct in his body was telling him to be on his guard, keep his defenses up. But, the wolf with the hazel eyes was his brother. That wolf was all Sam as far as Dean was concerned.  
  
The wolf circled around and snorted as it sniffed the air in the panic room. When its slanted eyes settled on Dean, the growling ceased and the wolf tilted its head slightly.  
  
“Let’s go for a run, Sammy.”  
  
The wolf shook itself and then padded over to the big iron door.  
  
Dean finally took a deep breath and sighed. So far, things were going to plan.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Dean was lying on his side, watching Sam sleep. At least he knew now not to worry when Sam slept like the fucking dead after his change. He’d also learned to stay in his own bed. When Sam finally changed back, he was twitchy as fuck and Dean had learned to keep his distance. Besides, they weren’t quite _there_ yet. That kind of closeness, well, it was a reminder of how much things had changed.  
  
But, Dean wasn’t going very far away. He was lying there, fully clothed, watching his brother sleep. Not weird at all.  
  
Sam was sprawled on his back with his arms and legs stretched out. His hair was a mess and his skin was flushed as though he was fighting off a fever. Even the tip of his nose was red.  
  
The white sheet was sitting low across Sam’s belly. He’d pretty much stayed where Dean had put him when they’d finally come back to the cabin. It had been a long night but Dean never felt right about sleeping until he was certain that Sam was okay. That was what Dean did; he made sure Sam was okay. It was the job he was best at out of all the ones he’d tried.  
  
Sam stirred and one hand flailed up to rub at his nose. He sniffed and his lashes fluttered a few times before he opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a while then turned his head to look at Dean as though he knew exactly where to find him.  
  
When their eyes met, Dean smiled. “How ya doin’?”  
  
Sam blinked slowly and stretched his arms up towards the ceiling. As he moved his legs back and forth the sheet slid further down over his hips. He arched his back and groaned in pleasure.  
  
The sight of his brother stretched out like that definitely got Dean’s attention. He smirked and shook his head to hide the fact that he felt a twinge of heat flare as Sam’s long body writhed. “Does all that mean you feel okay?”  
  
When Sam’s head turned back toward Dean, he was smiling. “Yeah. I feel okay. Seems easier every time.”  
  
_Every time_. The way Sam said that was beyond fucked up. It shouldn’t be a surprise they’d ended up where they were. “You remember much?”  
  
Sam frowned. “Bits and pieces. The trees, the wind and all the scents. You. I remember you. You smell really good.”  
  
Dean raised an eyebrow and sat up.  
  
Sam shrugged and smiled sheepishly.  
  
“Everything went fine, Sam. Same as last time. We were out for hours. You stayed close. I was never in danger so you can relax.”  
  
“Relax?” Sam rolled his eyes and scratched at the side of his head.  
  
“We can go on the hunt. Yeah?”  
  
There was silence for a while and then Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah. I guess.”  
  
“Good.” When Dean stood, he felt his spine crack, so he rolled his shoulders a couple of times.  
  
“You okay?” Sam propped himself up on his elbows and peered up at his brother.  
  
“Sore. You are forcing me to get fit, asshole.” Bent over, Dean massaged his aching thigh muscles. He felt as though he’d run a marathon or something, which, technically he had. Anything over a short burst of adrenaline-fueled running _away_ was a marathon for Dean.  
  
“You love me,” Sam teased. He stretched again and rolled onto his side with the pillow stuffed under his head. “Come here.”  
  
For a moment, Dean was suspicious. He never quite knew what Sam was up to when he _wanted_ his brother closer. It was a 50/50 chance that something good or bad could happen. Pressing his lips together, Dean ran a hand back and forth over his head then headed took a step forward and sat down on the side of his brother’s bed.  
  
“Dean?”  
  
“Yeah?” Dean sat back a little and looked down at his brother.  
  
“You know. You. You didn’t have to do all of this. I mean - things-”  
  
“- Sam, c’mon. We’ve been through worse.”  
  
“That doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t sign up for this,” Sam said in a quiet voice. It was the most relaxed he had sounded in ages, or maybe his guard was just down. It was rare, but they screwed up and let it happen once in a while.  
  
“We are what we are, Sam. No point in fighting it. If history has taught us anything, it’s that we should just suck it up and get on with it.” There had been times when they had tried to derail the hurtling train that was their life but it never seemed to work.  
  
Sam was silent for a little while then he shifted a little closer. “Dean, just exactly what _are_ we?”  
  
It was a question that Dean had expected for a while and that was how he knew it wasn’t about them being hunters. “We’re hunters.”  
  
When Sam said nothing, Dean realized it probably wasn’t the right time to make light of things. “Sam, we’re us. We hunt. We spend what’s left of our energy annoying the hell out of each other.”  
  
“And the rest?” Sam’s fingers reached Dean’s hip and slid up under his shirt to smooth along the edge of his waistband. “This?”  
  
The touch sent a tingling ripple up Dean’s back and he shivered slightly. Oh yeah, _that_. “Doesn’t change it if we call it somethin’,” Dean muttered.  
  
“No,” Sam said quietly. “I guess it doesn’t.”  
  
Dean knew it was a shitty answer. It really wasn’t an answer at all. But he didn’t _know_ what to tell his brother. Fear had changed things. He’d thought he was losing Sam and he’d let his guard down and kissed him. And here they were, months later still struggling to understand what they were doing.  
  
There had been blow jobs and jerking off and touching that was _way_ off the reservation for brothers. But, it was more than that. There was a closeness that hadn’t been there before, something Dean often tried to avoid because it made him realize how much danger they were in.  
  
The problem was he didn’t know how to put all of that into words. “You need to eat.”  
  
The sooner everything got back to normal, the better Dean would feel.  
  
Dean stood once more and headed over to pick up his jacket. He smacked Sam’s foot as he walked past the end of his brother’s bed. “Get moving. I wanna go into town and you need to eat.”  
  
~~~~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

They planned out the entire hunt from start to finish. Sam had insisted. They waited in the panic room for Sam to change. Immediately afterward, they headed to the car and began the drive to the old, run-down barn that the vamp called home. Dean had cased the place out earlier. 

He figured they had enough time to catch the rogue vamp before he headed out to do any more sloppy hunting. Sam...the wolf would go in first and corner the vamp then Dean would liberate the damn thing's head. They'd be back at the cabin in time to watch a crappy horror movie on late-night TV. 

And, as they headed down the dirt road in the Impala, everything was going well. It was a little weird having a huge wolf lying next to him on the front seat. However, stranger things had happened in their car. What was weird was not knowing whether he should speak to Sam or not. And not having his brother’s constant banter was strange. 

Strange had always been in their wheelhouse, though, so that was nothing new. 

By the time they arrived about a mile away from the old bar, Dean was pretty pumped. It had been too long since they’d been on a hunt, and Dean was itching to get back in the saddle. His nerves were always a little frazzled when they weren’t hunting. 

Dean turned the engine off and climbed out of the car only to find himself almost knocked over by the wolf. “Jesus, Sam. Watch it.” 

The wolf trotted forward a few steps then waited for Dean. 

“I’m comin’. Don’t get your panties in a knot,” Dean mumbled. He pressed the car door closed and slid the machete into his leg holster. “Let’s go.” 

~~~~~~~ 

It didn't take long for them to cover the mile to the barn. Dean even worked up a bit of a sweat keeping up with the wolf. 

When they arrived at the old barn, the moon was behind some clouds. It was dark and still, not the perfect night for hunting anything, let alone something with preternatural senses. 

The wolf at Dean’s side had no problem seeing. He trotted forward confidently and silently like some sort of stealth killing machine. It was oddly comforting and disconcerting at the same time. 

When they approached the huge, double doors at the front of the barn, the wolf froze. His head hung low, and his hackles rose. 

It was enough of a warning for Dean. He unsheathed the machete, refixed his grip and squared his shoulders. He surveyed the front of the barn and found the small side door he’d seen earlier. 

Dean reached down and let his fingers brush against the silky-smooth fur of the wolf’s cheek. The wolf turned into Dean’s touch briefly and licked his hand once before stepping towards the door. 

“Okay, buddy,” Dean said under his breath. Sam wasn’t usually the first one through any door, but Dean could live with it. The wolf’s shoulders were almost level with Dean’s hip; he could take care of himself. 

What he couldn’t do was open a door. That was still Dean’s department. He waited for a few more moments then turned the doorknob as slowly as he could. The grinding metal sounded like thunder in the silence of the night. 

The door wasn’t locked. 

Dean pulled the door ajar carefully and watched as the wolf slipped through the narrow opening. 

“Sam,” Dean whispered. God damn it. He trusted Sam's wolf, but he needed to be there with him. 

Moving quickly, Dean shouldered the door the rest of the way open. He wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but it was even darker inside the barn. It stunk of horse shit and rotten hay, and Dean was pretty sure there was a hint of blood mixed in there. 

There was a movement off to the right, and Dean turned in time to see the wolf creeping low to the ground. Sam had spotted something. 

A growl finally broke the silence then there was a shuffling sound ahead of Dean. The wolf leaped in front of Dean and bared his teeth as the growl became a vicious snarl. 

Dean’s eyes strained in the darkness, and he could see a shape in front of them. The vampire was up and right in front of them. 

The wolf’s claws clicked on the barn floor as he moved to stand directly in front of the vampire. 

“You brought your dog?” spat the monster looming in front of Dean. Almost hysterical laughter was the only sign that the vampire may be a little worried about the hunters. 

“You’re gonna wish he was a dog soon,” Dean muttered. 

The wolf’s growl intensified, and he snapped his jaws when the Vamp tried to sidestep them. The snarl that followed even made Dean step away slightly. However, Sam was still in control. He had the vamp in his line of sight and was standing his ground just like they had planned. 

Moving as slowly as he could, Dean stepped to the side and raised the machete. He could sense Sam moving beside him and hear the sound of his claws. 

“Get away from me, you fleabag,” the vampire hissed at the silver wolf. 

The wolf’s jaws snapped again, and he took some ground quickly as he continued to snarl. 

Dean saw the distraction as his opportunity and struck. The machete swung in a wide arc and sliced into the side of the vampire's neck. 

The head was there at the top of the neck for a fraction of a second and then it slid off and landed on the floor with a sickening squelching sound. 

Dean kicked it away from the body that crumpled to the ground. It never hurt to be thorough. The loose head thumped into the nearest wall, and Dean looked back down to find the Wolf. 

The only problem was that the wolf was gone. Dean scanned the darkness immediately. “Sam?”

He couldn’t see any movement around him. “Shit.” 

Dean moved forward into the darkness with the machete out in front of him. He concentrated on trying to hear any sign of the wolf. Light, he needed some fucking light. 

Fumbling in his pockets, Dean finally found his lighter and flipped it open. The flame burned up then settled into a short blaze. However, the circle of light was enough to see most of the main area of the barn. 

The wolf was still there, standing against the far wall. Dean’s gaze narrowed as he tried to make out more details. There was another person in the barn. It looked like a tall, thin man. He was hanging from his wrists which were tied by a rope slung over one of the ceiling beams. The disgusting creature had left someone there to be a noon snack or something. 

The wolf stepped closer to the unconscious man and sniffed at the air.

When Dean followed the wolf’s gaze he realized there was blood streaming from a gaping wound in the man’s neck. Cold fear took hold of Dean as the wolf stepped closer to the pool of blood.

“Sam, come back here.” Dean’s fingers were clenched tightly around the handle of the machete and the lighter. “Sam!”

The wolf glanced over its shoulder briefly then looked back at the strung up body. He sniffed the air again and padded closer.

“Sam, _please_ come away from there.” One of the things Dean hadn’t counted on was there being a recently deceased body hanging there like a damn wolf snack.

Sheathing the machete, Dean moved forward slowly holding the small flame out in front of him. “Sammy, listen to me. You need to stay away from this guy. Do _not_ go any closer.”

The wolf shook its head then stepped closer to the body.

“Sammy, come away from that.” Dean’s heart began to pound as his anxiety ramped up. The last thing he wanted Sam to do was taste any of the blood. One lick of that red, sticky shit could set Sam down the wrong path altogether.

It felt like Dean’s heart was in his throat. He was struggling to breathe. It was always the shit they didn't plan for that fucked them over. Why hadn’t he thought that there might have been bodies there? Now he was knee deep in a shit pile, the whole night suddenly seemed like it was a really bad idea.

Dean used his most stern voice. “Sam, you fuckin’ listen to me. Listen to my voice. You need to come away from there.”

As Dean took a couple of steps closer, he heard the wolf began to growl. It was a threatening sound, a warning, and Dean didn’t like it at all. He took one more step and the wolf turned on him. Teeth bared, shoulders hunched, the silver wolf snarled at Dean.

For some reason, the fear drained away from Dean and his shoulders slumped. He’d fucked up and losing Sam would be the price if he couldn’t fix it.

Sinking down to his knees, Dean set the lighter down beside him. The light glittered across the pooling blood. “Sammy? I know that you’re still there; I know it. I know everything about you. I can see _you_ in those eyes.”

The snarl grew a little louder and the wolf’s nose wrinkled as it snapped in Dean’s direction.

“Please, Sam. Listen to me.” Dean held out a trembling hand as far as he could reach without moving closer

The wolf snorted and retreated slightly, turned around in a circle then growled softly. The eyes darted around the dark barn and then settled on the pool of blood again.

“I need you, Sam,” Dean said softly. “I screw up a lot, man. I _need_ you. I’ve probably never said that before. I mean, we don’t say shit like that.”

The growling stopped and the wolf looked back over at Dean.

Finally, Dean dared to hope that he might have reached his brother. His hand was still shaking but he held it there, fingers relaxed, palm up. “Come back, Sam.”

The wolf tilted its head, sniffed at Dean’s fingers then walked towards Dean. As Dean’s fingers slid into the silky fur, he held still. The wolf kept walking until it was close enough to nuzzle Dean’s cheek.

The cool, damp nose was about the best thing Dean had ever felt. He slid his arm around the wolf’s neck and held on tightly as he buried his face in fur. He was sure he could smell _Sam_ in that fur but it was probably his imagination.

The wolf’s smooth tongue lapped at Dean’s cheek briefly and then he withdrew. Their eyes met and the wolf tilted its head again.

“Yeah. We need to go, Sam. You go on ahead. Go to the car. I need to burn this place.”

As though it understood, the wolf snuffled Dean’s jaw then turned and ran towards the door.

Dean finally allowed himself to feel relief. He clambered to his feet and stood there for a moment taking a few deep breaths. He kicked the zippo over into the hay that was scattered on the floor.

He heard the whoosh of flames springing to life and walked towards the door. All he wanted was to get the _hell_ out of there.

When Dean emerged into the crisp night air, he could already hear the crackling of the fire behind him. He sighed and looked up to see the silhouette of the silver wolf waiting for him at the edge of the clearing.

~~~~~~~

Even though he wanted to stay awake until Sam changed back, Dean was exhausted. By the time they made it back to the cabin, Dean felt as though he’d been through a war. All his muscles ached, his knees were bruised, even his eyes ached. Everything smelled like smoke and as soon as the wolf was lying on the bed, Dean shed his clothes and took a shower.

When he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, the wolf was lying with its head on its paws. Its dark eyes followed Dean as he dried off and put on a clean pair of boxers.

He didn’t care if he got kicked or kept awake all night, Dean climbed into Sam’s bed and got comfortable.

It only took a couple of moments for the wolf to turn and lay down at Dean’s side.

The warm weight of the wolf was comforting and Dean buried his fingers in the thick fur on its neck. he held on tightly, more aware than ever that they had narrowly dodged a bullet.

Dean could have lost everything, because Sam _was_ everything. He couldn't even imagine what the hell he would do if he had to wake up in a world without his brother. There’d just be no reason to bother taking another breath.

He curled into the firm body of the huge creature and closed his eyes. He just needed to rest them, to stop the sandpaper scratch each time he blinked. The rhythmic panting of the wolf was reassuring, and Dean tightened his hold again.

It didn’t take long for _resting his eyes_ to become the sweet release of sleep.

~~~~~~~

Dean woke up because he was hot. He could feel sweat all down his chest and his belly. He slowly became aware that he was warm because he was plastered to his brother’s back.

Sam’s broad back was all flesh, no fur and it felt damned good. Dean rested his cheek against the back of Sam’s neck. He inhaled deeply and smiled. He would know the scent of his brother anywhere.

Dean couldn’t help running his hand down his brother’s ribs, over his hip and down to the swell of his thigh. Long and lean had become tall and muscular over the years. The journey of Sam from an annoying kid to gangly teenager to man had all happened in front of Dean’s eyes. Somehow, though, he had failed to notice it while it was happening. Weird how that worked.

“It didn’t go so well last night,” Sam murmured sleepily.

How was Dean supposed to answer that? Sam was there with him; they’d experienced the same shit show. Dean hadn’t been hurt, though. The vampire was dust. Dean shrugged his shoulder then realized Sam couldn’t see him. “It worked out.”

There was silence for a while and then Sam took a deep breath. He slid his hand down until he could cover Dean’s hand with his own. “I remember some of it. I could smell the blood. It was … inviting. It was insane. I wanted-”

“I know, Sammy. I was there. I don’t need to hear the play by play.” Dean kept his voice low, his lips near the shell of his brother’s ear. “But, it ended up good. You. You came to me and it was all okay in the end.”

“All okay,” Sam echoed.

It didn’t sound much like Sam believed it but Dean could work on it. They were together and that was the beginning of everything.

There was a gentle tug on Dean’s hand and Sam moved his brother’s hand forward until he could press it to his belly. Even relaxed, Sam’s muscles were tight against Dean’s palm.

“I can’t be without you, Sam.” Dean’s lips brushed against his brother’s ear.

Sam threaded his fingers through Dean’s and turned his head to rub his cheek against Dean’s lips. “I love you, Dean.”

Three simple words that pummeled into Dean’s heart and stole all his breath away. He’d always known Sam loved him. They were brothers, they’d loved each other even when they hated each other. But, it was so different to hear it while he was flush against his brother’s back. Sam’s broad shoulders were stretched out in front of Dean. The swell of Sam’s ass was hot against Dean’s cock. His knees tucked in behind Sam’s perfectly in spite of their height difference. It was all _right_ ; just the way it should be.

Sam moved his brother’s hand again, further down his body and over his own swollen cock.

Heat slithered through Dean’s veins and sent his thoughts spinning away from him. All he could think about was touching Sam, feeling every single inch of all that flesh and muscle that was wrapped up in his arms. All his.

Wrestling his arm out from under the pillow, Dean slid it forward to tangle his fingers in his brother’s long hair. He was glad Sam had never caved to the teasing about it being too long. He tugged until Sam had no choice but to tip his head back.

Dean let his hand slide forward until he could grab Sam’s throat just under his strong jaw. “You’re always mine.”

Dean could feel his brother try to nod but he held his jaw firmly. He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin behind Sam’s ear. He loved the way that he could feel all the subtle tensing of Sam’s body.

“Sam?”

“Mmm.”

“I want. I wanna-”

“Yes,” Sam said without hesitation. 

In case Dean had any doubt that his brother knew exactly what he was being asked for, Sam pushed his hips back. The muscular curves of Sam’s ass pressed against his brother’s swelling cock.

The desire that tripped through Dean’s body made him dizzy. If he weren’t already on the bed, he probably would have passed out.

There was another tug on Dean’s hand and his fingers were pulled further down until he could feel Sam’s balls where they were trapped between his legs.

Sam moaned and rocked his hips slowly.

The tendons in Sam’s neck were stretched taut and Dean mouthed his way down his brother’s neck and along his shoulder. He bit at the meat of Sam’s arm and felt another burst of heat at the hiss of pain that Sam let out.

Sam’s torso twisted towards Dean and he struggled to get his mouth crushed up against his brother’s. The kiss hurt; Dean was sure he could taste blood. He grunted into Sam’s mouth and gripped his brother’s balls tightly in one hand.

The jolt that ripped through Sam’s body wrenched their mouths apart. The bed had never really been big enough for two men their size, but it didn’t matter when they were all tangled up together.

Dean ground his aching cock against Sam’s ass and moaned as he slowly released the pressure on his brother’s balls. He dragged his hand higher and gave Sam’s cock a few quick pulls before reaching for his own.

The pressure Dean put at the base of his hard-on eased him back from coming. He held his breath a moment to steady himself, then rolled away to grasp blindly at the nightstand.

“Dean?” Sam sounded worried and he reached back instantly. He thought Dean was leaving. _Stupid_.

“Lube,” Dean muttered. He wanted to call Sam a fucking idiot because there was _no_ way he would walk away from what Sam was letting him have.

“Thank God.”

“Idiot.” It had to be said, after all.

There was a strange look on Sam’s face when Dean rolled back towards him. He looked wary but all Dean could wonder was if Sam had trouble believing they could have what they wanted. Dean still had a hell of a lot more than moments when he was afraid it wasn’t real.

The slippery lube was cool on Dean’s fiery skin and he tried to think about anything _but_ Sam as he spread it over his cock.

He didn’t even know what the hell he was doing. Sure, he’d seen porn, gay porn, yeah, why not? He wasn’t stupid enough to think that reality wouldn't be very different, though.

The lube made it easy to slip a finger into Sam’s ass. Sam’s hips jerked forwards and his straight, white teeth bit down on his bottom lip. “Jesus.”

“Relax,” Dean said in a raspy voice.

He slid two fingers into Sam’s heat and leaned in to press his lips to his brother’s. Sam relaxed under Dean’s body. His shoulders slumped a little but he stayed twisted around so he could keep Dean’s mouth right where he seemed to want it.

There were too many sensations and Dean’s mind spun out of control again. _Sam._ Right there in front of him was the one man Dean had always wanted and never been allowed to have.

“Keep going,” Sam murmured in between crushing his mouth to Dean’s and biting his bottom lip.

Dean hadn’t even realized that he’d paused. A third finger slipped easily into his brother’s tight ass and Dean could feel his heart start to beat a little clumsily at the thought of what was about to happen.

When Sam’s tongue slid into his mouth, Dean tensed as he was slammed with the need to get _more_. There was never going to be enough of Sam.

Dean pulled his fingers free and grabbed the base of his cock again so he could rub the head against Sam’s sensitive entrance. Sensitive, Dean judged by the way that Sam’s muscles fluttered against Dean’s body.

Unable to hold back any longer, Dean nudged the head of his cock into Sam’s ass. Sam sucked in a quick breath and his face paled slightly. Dean paused even though it felt like his balls were on fire.

“‘Kay,” Sam said through gritted teeth.

“It hurt?” Dean actually couldn’t imagine it _not_ hurting. In a drunken daze a few times, he’d had a finger in his ass and _yeah_ it felt good. But a hard cock was a hell of a lot bigger.

“Doesn’t hurt,” Sam said weakly.

“Right.”

“That bad,” Sam added. And there was that look again on his face. Like someone was going to show up and take his Christmas presents away moments after he’d opened them.

“It’s okay, Sam. It’s all okay.” Dean smoothed his free hand over Sam’s hair and smiled slightly. It all felt too big for stupid platitudes but he didn’t have anything else to offer.

The expression on Sam’s face softened and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips. When he blinked, it was like slow motion and Dean pushed his hips forward slowly.

Sam’s lashes fluttered closed as Dean’s cock inched forward. His grip was tight at the base of his cock because, _fuck_ , he was going to come.

Not more than a few seconds passed and Sam moaned. His nails dug into Dean’s back and his spine arched up as he sucked in a deep breath.

Dean’s lips slip from Sam’s lips to his jaw then up along his sharp cheekbone. And, just like that, he was buried in the heat of Sam’s body.

Sam twisted back away from Dean and stretched a hand out in front of him to grab the quilt.

When, at last, he moved his hips forward, pleasure raced around in Dean’s body. He felt it everywhere. Curled up against his brother’s back, sunk deep inside him, Dean panted like he’d run a marathon. He couldn’t _not_ move.

With an arm looped tightly over Sam’s waist, Dean pulled his hips back so he could slide forward and everything kind of exploded inside of him.

He lost what little control he had over himself. His hips snapped forward again and again as he clutched Sam’s body to his chest. He could smell the way the scent of his own sweat mingled with Sam’s. Each time his lips moved over his brother’s flesh he could taste the salt of sweat.

Soon, All Dean could even understand was the feel of Sam’s body and the desire that was so suffocating. He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted Sam in that moment.

As his hips jutted forward, again and again, Dean just let it all go. The noises Sam made were truly amazing, they filtered through the crazy, overwhelming haze of _want_ that had possessed Dean.

Sam’s body was slick with sweat and trembling. The head of his cock left a slick trail on the underside of Dean’s forearm. He slid his arm lower until he could palm Sam’s thick cock. He loved the feel of it in his hand, the weight, and the heat.

Each time his hips thrust forward, he let his hand slide down his brother’s cock. Their bodies moved in a rhythm that was practiced through years of fighting together. Like it had always been right.

When Dean’s pleasure crested to a peak he didn’t even have time to get any breath into his lungs. Mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, he felt pain with every pulse of come from his cock.

Sam’s body arched back against Dean and then Dean was vaguely aware of hot, slickness hitting his arm. His fingers spread wide over Sam’s belly and he felt his brother’s abs ripple as his body jerked.

By the time Dean’s body was just twitching and sweating, he could feel that Sam’s breath had slowed a little. But he held on, tightly. There were plenty of things he _could_ say but he was starting to think that they might have a lot of time to say them.

Fate could have made things very different for them. But it hadn’t. Sam was everything and he was there in the circle of Dean's arms. Dean sighed and kissed the back of Sam’s neck.

~~~~~~~

Being a hunter for more years than he cared to mention made Dean’s instincts pretty sharp. The only person who had ever been able to slip past Dean’s guard was Sam.

He had done it perfectly while Dean was sleeping.

The _absence_ of Sam’s presence in in the room was something Dean _felt_ before he even opened his eyes. It was like knowing there were eyes on him.

Dean opened his eyes slowly. He already knew what he wouldn’t see. The rumpled sheets beside him were the only sign that Sam had been there.

When Dean sat up, he could see the absence of his brother everywhere. There was no khaki jacket slung carelessly over the back of the chair. There were no huge boots near Dean’s by the door. One of the duffel bags they hand on wall hooks near the window was gone.

Something inside Dean’s chest opened up and he felt like someone had yanked the cabin floor out from under him.

There was a piece of paper lying at the bottom of the bed and Dean stared at it for a while before he leaned forward to pick it up.

There were two sentences scrawled on the paper in Sam’s familiar handwriting.

_I love you. I can’t do this._

Dean rubbed at his mouth with a shaking fist them crumpled up the paper slowly. He threw it across the cabin and sat there staring at the door. 

~~~~~~~

What Dean knew was that Sam would find a way to be _safe_. What Dean worried about, was how Sam would do that. He knew Sam better than he knew himself, at least, he had until absolutely everything about Sam had changed.

The first morning, Dean fought the urge to race after Sam. To begin with, he’d probably never been more pissed off at his little brother. The last thing he wanted to do was see Sam and punch him in the face. And, it wasn’t the first time Sam had taken off. Dean had always found him before, but Sam would know to do everything differently. If he didn’t want to be found, then Dean wouldn’t be able to find him.

So, what was the first step? Dean packed up his gear and drove to Bobby’s. No, Sam would never take the Impala. But, with his stupid long legs and as fit as he was, he could have easily made it to the closest town in a few hours. From there, Sam could have gone anywhere.

Dean did what he always did when shit got too real; he went home.

“You two are goddamn morons,” Bobby hollered. “A werewolf? And it didn’t occur to you to _phone_ me?”

Dean had expected far worse from Bobby. After all, the Winchesters had left a trail of stupid in their wake.

It worried Dean a little that Bobby’s face was as red as a tomato. He’d thrown a book and broken a coffee mug in the sink. It probably wasn’t the end of what Dean would see. It wasn’t like he could disagree with anything Bobby was yelling.

“Bobby, I know we fucked up. I should have called you first off-”

“Yes, you friggin’ shoulda,” Bobby said in a slightly quieter yell.

They were quiet for a while, Dean finally sat down at the old kitchen table and rested his head on his hands. The full impact of everything was starting to hit Dean. Sam was gone and Dean didn’t know what the hell to do. “Bobby? I need your help?”

Bobby sighed then Dean heard footsteps and felt Bobby’s hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find ‘im. You two always find each other.”

Dean nodded with his face still in his hands. There was so much that Bobby didn’t know and that was a _really_ good thing. Bobby was like a father to Dean but there were definitely things that they wouldn’t be talking about.

“We just have to find him before another hunter does,” Bobby said wryly.

~~~~~~~

will be continued


End file.
